The Visitor



Last night, I was awakened by the most blood curdling sound. It was the low moan of a cat in trouble. It was 5:30 in the morning and pouring rain outside. I went to the sliding glass door and looked out onto my patio to see the stray cat who sometimes visits me when he needs to come in from the cold. His back was up and he was in a showdown with another stray tom cat. I opened my sliding glass door and shooed the stranger away. After he was sure that his nemesis had indeed fled the scene, Tabby (I have no idea if he actually has a name, but as he is a tabby cat, that’s what I call him) came in. He was soaking wet and shivering with cold, or rage, or perhaps a combination of the two. He let me towel him off and then he scarfed down some Meow Mix that I keep for just such an occasion. After his appetite was sated, Tabby joined me on the sofa and we both fell asleep, him, exhausted from battle, me just exhausted. After about an hour, the now dry Tabby, woke me up by mewing at the door and I let him back outside. He never stays long, but it seems that I am his port in a storm (literally and figuratively). I went back to bed and dreamed of sad wet cats. To me one of the most heart wrenching images is the sad wet cat. Nothing awakens my maternal instinct as quickly. In spirit of misery loves company, I thought I’d share some images of what happens when cats get wet. (Cue the Sarah McLachlan song)





When such a sad thing happens to the one animal on the planet that personifies the word dignity, one can only ask…



These are the days of my week


My Mum and I are both cat lovers of the highest order and while neither of us is lucky enough to actually have a cat living in our homes at the moment, we both love looking at pictures of adorable kitties. I have been following the blog at for years. Whenever the world gets too harsh and I need quick injection of cute, it’s my go to place. Last year, I began sending my Mum a daily dose of her own kitty cuteness, direct from lolcats. Over the months, I have renamed all of the days of the week to coincide with these feline emails. It all started when I noticed that many of the folks in my twitter feed were referring to Saturday as Caturday and it just spiraled from there. Let me illustrate…








My Mum looks forward to her her daily kitty emails. It’s a little thing that brings us closer together even though we live on opposite sides of the country. Thank you to the kind folks at for giving me such a sweet way to let my Mum know that I am thinking of her.




Happy Father’s Day

Fathers are often taken for granted. They are expected to be excellent providers, but not to spend all day and night at work, to be strong and brave, yet vulnerable and in touch with their feminine side. These mixed messages that we send our men are unfair. We should be praising them for what they are doing in the midst of all the nagging about what they aren’t doing. After all, for all of our complaints, isn’t it easier to be a parent with them there?

This Sunday is Father’s Day and to mark the occasion, I thought I would post some tender moments between Fathers and babies. It’s not just Mothers who are capable of loving and nurturing their children… and besides there’s nothing sexier than a big, burly man holding an innocent little baby.

Yes men holding babies is truly a wonderful sight, that is until baby needs a diaper change and Mom is nowhere to be found. Then Dad is running to the next door neighbour with the baby at arm’s length and a diaper in his back pocket… or maybe that was just my Dad and this guy…

I think someone may have made a stinky.